


World Wars

by feverbeats



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor can feel Jack's <em>wrongness</em> all over his skin like insects, and he never meant to do this, because it's not natural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World Wars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://lellenator.livejournal.com/profile)[**lellenator**](http://lellenator.livejournal.com/).

  
After Donna is gone, he goes back. He goes back to the middle of World War II, because it feels like a world war inside his head, and he needs something real and solid to quiet the sound.

The trenches are grim and cold and miserable, and the Doctor lets his face become grimed with dirt. The sound of gunfire is constant, and the Doctor hates war. But this war is not his, so he doesn't hate it as much as he might.

It takes him only six days to find Jack. The last thing he wants is for Jack to recognize him, so he stays away until he can't stand it anymore.

He comes to Jack in the middle of the night, when they should all be catching a few minutes of sleep. It's dark enough that Jack won't be able to recognize him when they meet at the end of the universe, unless the sky lights up, in which case they're all in trouble anyway.

The Doctor is lonely and furious and he hates that he's furious. He doesn't want to be the other him, the one that's gone now, away with Rose. He has burned worlds and lost his best friend, and if he can make amends for even one tiny thing, he'll do it.

So it is that he ends up kissing Jack in the dark, in the trenches. Jack responds easily enough, because he is Jack, and before the Doctor knows it, they're half-naked in the chilly mud. Jack's hands are strong and cold and his fingers dig into the Doctor's skin uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor whispers. _I'm so sorry_, he thinks.

Jack doesn't answer. His hands are on the Doctor's hips.

The Doctor can feel Jack's _wrongness_ all over his skin like insects, and he never meant to do this, because it's not natural. When Jack shoves one finger inside him more gently than he could, the Doctor gasps a little. This is _wrong, wrong, wrong_. But this is a way of atoning, so it doesn't matter.

"I'm not gonna fuck you," Jack whispers. "You're just a kid."

The Doctor wants to laugh and laugh. Instead, he twists in Jack's arms, positioning himself so Jack's fingers go deeper. Jack's name and another apology hover on his lips, but he bites back the words. He can't afford complications.

And Jack does his best to uncomplicate everything by fucking the Doctor with his fingers, steady and safe and real, until the Doctor wishes he could share his mind with Jack, a thought that is the edge of madness.

When it is over, Jack draws away, and the Doctor is left to find his stumbling way back to the TARDIS, wondering if this did anyone any good.


End file.
